MTL - Only I Can Use Summoning - Chapter 932 , into the concession

Liu Yuan is a good game player, especially in the MMORPG Upper Center. Just as he succeeded in gaining the favorability of all the possible characters in Upper Center, he transmigrated. To where? Oops, he transmigrated into the game he was playing.What he saw was a pretty girl. She wept incessantly, failing to notice Liu Yuan’s unusual behavior. She looked up with teary eyes and said in a firm way, “Mr. Junxuan, I will not marry him. I wish to be with you for the rest of my life!” Junxuan… Wasn’t that his username in the game?

Shu Shi has been the villain in the book from time to time and had to play by the plot in order to become the protagonist in another book.

According to the plot, he must eventually die under the heroine’s sword.

When he was about to die, Zhan Qingchen stood up with her sword and asked him what his last words were.

Looking at the indifferent beautiful face, Shu Shi, who was lying in a pool of blood, was timid.

He pulled Zhan Qingchen down hard and gave her a forced kiss!

“This is the last time we meet anyway!”

Shu Shi closed his eyes in satisfaction.

Zhan Qingchen hated men so much and now her chastity had been taken away! This kiss was the best revenge for his nemesis!

After this he would be reincarnated and become the real ‘Favored son of heavens!’

But what Shu Shi did not expect was that Zhan Qingchen actually used the treasure to save him from the gates of death!

Now that they were sitting in silence, the atmosphere had become extremely awkward.

Zhan Qingchen: “Explain, why did you kiss me?”

Su Shi: “…”

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

This is a story about a graduate student of ancient Chinese who was repeatedly trampled on the road to employment, and returned to the middle of the Ming Dynasty and entered the body of a young child in a mountain village. There are many disputes in the farmyard With a dull father, a fierce mother, and a group of extremely bad relatives. Fortunately, we have thousands of years of historical accumulation, the Four Books and Five Classics, and the Eight-part Essays, and the majors are also suitable. Who says that it is difficult for a poor family to produce a noble son? The national strength has risen, and the rule of law has been relaxed; the law and discipline are lax, and the official discipline is lazy; there are a few treacherous ministers, and there are also some Japanese pirates; but overall, it can be said that this is a fertile ground for the free growth of scholars and officials. A legend of the rise of a poor family also grew from here